


Missing a Beat (I Don't Dance)

by Magicnation



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Childhood Memories, Moving On, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 07:42:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14848568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magicnation/pseuds/Magicnation
Summary: As the dust clears, Thor comes to terms with the magnitude of his loss. The universe is a much emptier place. A quieter place.He doesn't much like the quiet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mindful](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mindful/gifts).



> My end of a fanfic trade with my lovely and talented friend Mindful! I tried to stick to canon as much as possible but come on, the MCU is dense and Infinity War especially so. If there are any errors, whoops, my bad, just try and roll with it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is time to count the dead.

Thor stared at the ground, oblivious to the gentle breeze cooling the sweat on his skin, the warm sun throwing gold across the lush green foliage. Stormbreaker lay before him, sticky with titan blood.

He knelt, gaze fixed on the sharp, newly-forged dwarven metal. Dimly the sound of soft footsteps approaching registered in his mind, but he couldn’t find it in himself to even raise his eyes.

He didn’t care, until Rocket fell to his knees beside the axe and laid a paw on the handle.

“Groot,” he whispered, his voice breaking. Thor looked at him, saw the dark eyes, glistening in the slanting sun.

The thunder god reached down and laid a hand on the trembling shoulder. “Rabbit. I am sorry for your loss.”

“Yeah.” Rocket swiped his arm across his face. “Whatever.”

A hand landed on Thor’s own shoulder. “Hey,” croaked Steve Rogers. “Let’s… let’s round everyone up and meet back at the palace.”

Thor nodded, stooping to lift his axe. Rocket clambered up his arm and perched there. 

“I’ll help you look,” he offered.

“Good idea.” They set off in search of survivors.

 

Shuri’s lab was crowded with the remnants of Earth’s last defenders. They had just finished comparing notes from the last several days and counting their losses. With tear-stains on her cheeks and Rogers peering over her shoulder, she scanned a radar readout of Earth’s atmosphere.

“There!” she finally exclaimed, pointing to a new blip approaching the surface.

“Can you get in touch with him?” Rogers asked. Just behind him, Banner took Natasha’s hand as they leaned on one another for support.

“I think so. Just a second…” Shuri set to fiddling with some instruments the likes of which Thor, arms crossed, leaning against a back wall, had never seen before.

He glanced around the assembled faces. Many sported red-rimmed eyes. A few still wiped away tears. Everyone had lost someone, today. Many someones, in most cases. So much death, so much grief.

If only he’d gone for the head. He should have cut off Thanos’ head.

“That should do it,” Shuri announced. She held out a communicator to Rogers.

“Stark, is that you? Come in.”

“Cap?” A weary voice sounded out in the room.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Cap.” A sigh, heavy, soul-deep. “It’s never been so good to hear your voice.”

“Same here, buddy. We’re in Wakanda, if you wanna stop by for the debrief.”

“Heh. Debrief.” Stark’s laugh was mirthless. “Sure, why not.”

“Good to hear.” Rogers hesitated. “Anyone else we should invite?” he ventured.

A pause, pregnant with pain. “No.”

Rocket looked up. “Wait. No one else? Mantis? Drax? Quill?”

“Who is that? Nevermind. There’s no one else, okay?” He sounded angry now. Rocket leaned back, deflated. Out of the corner of his eye, Thor caught sight of the opportunistic thief blinking rapidly before settling into a facsimile of composure.

Rogers folded his arms across his chest, lowered his head. “Understood. We’ll see you in a bit.”

“Yeah.” 

Thor clenched his jaw and set to pacing. So many dead. So many dead and he, king of Asgard, god of thunder, hadn’t been able to stop it. He’d swung the axe forged to deliver a titan’s death blow, he had connected, and he had failed.

Should have swung for the head.

 _How was I to know that an axe to the chest wouldn’t kill him?_ He scowled. The hushed whispers and stifled sobs around him landed weakly against his chest.

“The Iron Man has arrived,” Shuri quietly announced from her desk, head braced on her hand.

“Good,” Thor snarled, earning him a few concerned looks. “Let’s get this over with.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little remains of Thor's home. But he has his memories.

The remnants of Asgard were located in short order and brought to Earth to be picked over and investigated. The dark outline of debris- already confirmed to be devoid of any sign of life- as it descended through the bright blue sky locked Thor’s muscles in place. He clenched his fists and swallowed the lump in his throat. He wanted to run, wanted to fight, wanted to do anything but visit his ruined kingdom.

He took a deep breath, forced his grip to relax. The ship chunks were pulled down and prepared for sorting. Numerous scientists and officials from Wakanda’s new alliances moved over to participate in and oversee the affair.

There was work to be done, Thor told himself. History and assets alike to be categorized and salvaged. No one knew better than he what was useful, what was relevant, what best represented the Asgardian legacy. So he walked over to the storage facility before which the inorganic bones of his people lay, and offered advice when prompted.

He didn’t get too close to the wreckage.

The Wakandans and the present foreign representatives made short work of the clearing and started getting items with less immediate application shelved away. He stalked about the warehouse, searching for querants and dodging memories.

Try as he might to dodge them, they caught up with him in one of the metal-shelved alcoves. He forgot why he had come over here, but some ghost or other refused to let him leave.

He moved along the rows, examining the odds and ends, wondering which had been on the ship to begin with and which were brought along by a fleeing population. People grabbed all sorts of things in emergencies, not all of which made sense. He smiled a little as he found a carved munnharpa. It looked small in his powerful hands as he lifted the instrument to his lips and blew into it. A feeble wheeze issued forth in answer.

Shaking his head, he replaced the find. He’d never been much good at music. Or dancing, for that matter.

Oh, he’d been an awful klutz, he had. But there was much dancing to be had at Asgardian festivals, and once he’d wanted to learn. And, he recalled, had wanted to impress a girl. So he’d sought the help of the most charming person he knew.

 

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on! It’s the Midsummer feast! It’s my best chance to win Ingun Steinolfdottir’s heart!”

Loki looked up from his book to cast him a disdainful look over his shoulder. “You’re barely big enough to lift a battleaxe. What do you want to do with women’s hearts?”

“I’ve been swinging axes for years!”

“Really? Well, I must not have noticed, because I was fully engaged with _not caring._ ” Loki closed the book he was reading and set it back on the shelf.

“You don’t mean to tell me,” Thor began, putting a hand on Loki’s arm. Loki shot him an acid look and brushed the hand off. “You don’t have your eye on a special someone?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Stop that. You look like you have caterpillars copulating on your face.” Loki started walking away, waving a dismissive hand over his shoulder. “And I’m much too busy to bother with such trifles.”

 _Busy with what? He talks like such an ass._ Thor gritted his teeth at his brother’s retreating backside for a moment. One more try, he decided.

He jumped in front of Loki. “Just hear me out!”

“Oh for the love of Yggdrasil, _no._ ” Loki rolled his eyes so far back he took his head with them.

“Loki, you’ve got such a way with words. Honeyed words, I heard them called.”

“Really? A poetic compliment. I’ll accept it.”

“And you were always such a great dancer.”

“No.” Loki pointed a finger at his brother and set to walking again. “Dancing is a ridiculous undertaking. One looks entirely the fool while doing it.”

“Not when you do it! Please! No one has to see you, just teach me. I’m begging you.”

Loki stopped and gave him an appraising look, like he were putting a price on a cut of meat. “Begging, is it? Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Thor got to his knees. “Please, brother! I’ve got to get Ingun to notice me! You’re the only one who can help me!”

A smirk touched Loki’s lips. “That’s right. I am. And don’t you forget it.” He tapped his finger to his chin. “Very well. Follow me.”

Loki led him to an empty antechamber and locked the door behind them. “Now, just remember that if you tell anyone about this, ever, I will poison your mead cup at dinner.”

“Yeah, right.” Thor walked toward the window at the end of the room.

“Famous last words,” said a young woman’s voice from behind him. Thor turned to find his brother wearing the form of Ingun Steinolfdottir.

“Now,” Loki instructed. “When asking a lady to dance, there are certain formalities which must be observed…”

 

Thor ran his finger along the munnharpa, humming a tune half-remembered. His eyes stung, but he blinked and pretended he didn’t notice. Outside, the steady thrum of labor was quieting down. He ought to get back and field any last questions the workers might have. But his feet wouldn’t move.

He found himself swaying with the melody that croaked clumsily from his throat. The storage room felt distant, intangible. His feet carried him, on muscle memory long forgotten, and for a moment the events of the last few weeks vanished, replaced by the impression of sunlight streaming through high windows and a living, breathing brother teaching a reckless warrior-in-training to dance like a gentleman.

His damned brother, arrogant and aloof, cold and calculating. Not like me, Thor thought with a smile, tasting salt. No, young Thor was a hot-headed, impulsive and stubborn sort of arrogant. 

No wonder they didn’t get along. Most of the time. Perhaps, if they had… if only they had.

Humming turned to singing, words came forth from nowhere, and the throneless king lost himself in a day long gone.

“Whoa. Are you crying?”

Thor jumped, cracking his skull against a shelf. Bulging sacks crashed down with metallic clatter upon his head.

“No!” he yelped, lifting his arms to fend off the cascade of mystery doodads. “This planet, it’s terrible for my allergies.”

Banner looked between him and the shelf, lifting a skeptical brow. “Yeah, and you just came in here for a scalp massage.”

“Urgh.” Thor gingerly rubbed the top of his head, checking for damages. “Did you need something, Banner?”

“I dunno, you look pretty busy. Maybe I should just leave you and your godly organizational skills to… whatever this is.” He turned to leave.

“I’m not busy. What is it you need?”

Banner sighed. “Well, I just, um.” He stared at the ground like he was trying to see through it. “I guess- It’s probably stupid. But. If the green guy had been there…”

“Banner.” Thor put a hand on his shoulder. “You cannot blame yourself. We’re a team. We win as a team, we lose as a team.”

“Um, yeah. Thanks, Coach.” Banner side-eyed the burly thunder god. “Look, that’s a nice sentiment and all, but we both know that the Hulk would have been much more help than I was. He might have made the difference- don’t try to make me feel better about this, you don’t know that he wouldn’t have. You don’t know that, okay?”

Thor frowned, but kept his peace.

Banner sighed. “I guess I was just wondering: since you were with the Hulk in Sakaar, did he, I don’t know, maybe say something about the whole situation?”

“Hm.” Thor scratched his head. “I don’t think so. It was strange that he wouldn’t let you back in control for so long.”

“Weird, yeah.” He huffed, shoulders sagging. “Well, thanks anyway. God, if he would just stop acting like… like such a brat.”

“Like a big raging child,” Thor agreed.

“Exactly! He-” Banner stopped, held up a finger. “He’s like an angry child.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Holy shit.”

“What’s that?”

Banner clapped him on the arm. “I gotta go. Thanks for your help.”

“Wait, what?” Thor threw his hands up as Banner jogged off in a hurry. “You’re welcome! I guess.”

 

Natasha stopped him on his way out of the warehouse. “Hey. Do you happen to know anything about why Bruce just brushed me off while muttering something about bratty children?”

“Honestly? Not much.”

She folded her arms. “What _do_ you know?”

He got the distinct sense he was being interrogated. “He seemed distressed about not being able to change into the Hulk.”

“Of course he was.” She shook her head. “He’ll tear himself apart, dwelling on that forever.”

“Indeed. I told him to stop blaming himself. He didn’t seem to appreciate that.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Taking advice from a hypocrite? I bet he didn’t.”

He bristled. “What did you call me?”

“Don’t act like you don’t do the same damn thing. For the past ten days, you’ve done nothing but glower in corners and refuse to look anyone in the eyes.”

“How can I, when all the eyes I see are filled with tears?” A dark laugh bubbled forth from his throat, even as his chest tightened with fury and helplessness. “What do I say to them? Huh? Offer my condolences? If my axe had landed a few inches higher, half of the entire universe would still be alive right now!

“Don’t give yourself so much credit.” Her tone was icy. “You’re not the only one who had a chance to stop Thanos. There were five Infinity Stones, scattered around the galaxy and jealously guarded. And every one of us let him have them. No one is to blame here but Thanos and his insane genocide plot. So I won’t have you, or Bruce or Steve or anyone beating themselves up with ‘what ifs’ and ‘if onlys,’ because they aren’t going to fix anything. The past is dead and gone. Bury it and move forward.”

“I would sooner bury Thanos.”

Her jaw clenched. Silently she held his glare. After a long moment, she shook her head. “I can’t do this with you right now. I’m sorry, I just can’t. There’s too much to be done.” She turned her back to him and walked purposefully in the direction of a U.S. research envoy. 

Just as well, he thought. Finally, he could put some distance between himself and the museum of failure he’d been shelving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bedgrudging sibling bonding. Because I love Loki and I can't help myself.  
> I'm not sorry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The song is not over yet.

The Wakandans sure knew how to throw a party, Thor thought to himself as he watched the festivities from his twelfth-story room. Quite the festival down below, honoring the birthday of some long-dead hero whose name he chided himself for forgetting. He took a sip of water from a glass as he stared out the window.

Greens, oranges and blues dotted the city, illuminated by ceremonial firelight. In some ways, it reminded him of celebrations from his youth. The fire, the feasting, the dancing, all oddly surreal under the night sky. What he wouldn’t give to see the skies of Asgard one more time. Bright and vast, instead of burning.

Percussive beats reached his ears as they echoed across the Wakandan capital. He was hardly in the mood for it, but damned if the sound of drumming didn’t stir his blood. He took another drink, wishing it were something far stronger.

Probably there was something stronger down there, he thought. But that meant braving the throngs of celebrants, thrilled at having something joyful to commemorate after weeks of mourning the countless dead. Besides, he didn’t know enough about Wakandan customs to know if they had alcohol at such events. Just because it was a staple in Asgard didn’t mean it would be here.

Never mind it. Thor stayed where he was at, arm over his head, leaning his weight on the glass. On the streets below, hundreds of people stepped, leaped and twirled through the night.

 

Music swelled under the stars as Thor, eldest son of Odin, spun Ingun Steinolfdottir around the courtyard. On light feet they breezed by other dancing couples to a lovelorn tune. Her hair was pulled up in an elegant braid, and her eyes sparkled in the moonlight. 

Should I kiss her? he wondered. I should probably ask first.

“Ingun,” he began. “You look so beautiful tonight.”

She smiled and opened her mouth to respond. At that moment, a dark-haired youth Thor hardly recognized swooped in out of nowhere and asked if he could cut in.

Just like that, Thor was standing alone in the middle of the courtyard.

Stunned, he watched the girl he had spent weeks trying to be good enough for be whisked away under a twinkling sky. Agape as dozens of dancers twirled past him, hand in hand, he felt his cheeks flush with indignation, embarrassment, disappointment. Fists clenched, he moved to follow them.

An impatient sigh sounded behind him, and the next thing he knew a pair of elegant hands had clasped his own and whirled him away.

“Aren’t you just the vision of success,” Loki said, looking unimpressed at a point somewhere over Thor’s shoulder. 

“Did you see that?” Thor spluttered. “Arnbjorn Veleifsson thinks he can waltz in and steal my dance! From me! Thor Odinsson, Prince of Asgard!”

“And accomplished whiner, it seems.”

“It’s not funny, Loki! There’s a whole room full of people watching!”

“I’m painfully aware of that.” Loki shot him a disparaging look.

Right, he thought. Loki hadn’t danced in public in… how many years? He despised it. And yet, here he was. Anger gave way to curiosity.

Thor eyed his brother uncertainly. “So… why are you here?”

“Because it appears that once again, I am the only one who can help you.”

“Help me?”

“Help you save what little face you possess. You can repay me later. In fact, rest assured that you will. So, final lesson,” Loki said. “Once you’ve begun dancing, you mustn’t stop until the music’s over.”

“Why’s that?”

“If you stop, well.” Loki turned and fixed his eyes pointedly on his brother’s. “You’ll look quite the fool.”

“Lost, you mean.” Thor caught a glimpse of their mother, smiling at her two boys getting along for once.

“Terribly. Always move with purpose, brother, even if you cannot think of one.” His eyes returned to an uninterested examination of the room.

Thor nodded. Moving he could understand. Seemed sensible enough. “Does that mean you’ll let me lead now?”

“I would sooner caress the naked bicep of a blood-soaked berserker who’s been banned from the mead hall.” 

“So dramatic!” 

The corner of Loki’s mouth twitched. “I prefer artistic. Also, He Who Is Exalted Above All Others. But I’ll settle for artistic.” 

A soft, warm chord drifted across the courtyard and faded into the night. The brothers took a step back and finished their dance with a bow.

Rising, Loki gave Thor a thoughtful look. “We may just make a dancer of you yet.”

Thor grinned at him. “And you, perhaps.”

“Hm. We’ll see.”

 

Crisp breezes and warm sunshine greeted Wakanda the next morning. Out of the towering buildings people steadily trickled, on their way to jobs and errands, wearing bright colors that stood out against the silver and gray of the cityscape.

There was no reason for him to be out here, but he was, walking among the crowds and breathing in the scents of cooking meat and morning dew. He’d never been to another city on Earth that smelled anything like this one.

“Thor! Thor, you’re not gonna believe this!”

He turned and saw Banner racing down the street after him, garnering a few stares. The scientist drew close and nearly barreled into Thor, who caught him by the shoulders.

“Banner. What is it? Is there danger?”

“No.” Banner sucked down a breath. “Not for me, anyway. Thor, I got the Hulk back.”

“You did?” Thor blinked. Then he laughed. “But that’s great news!”

“Yeah. Heh.” He looked down, caught his breath. “It… I wish I had done it sooner. Made peace with the big guy.” A sardonic laugh escaped him. “Better late than never, right?”

Thor looked him over with concern. “It’s never too late to make a difference. You and the Hulk can make an awfully big difference.”

Banner smiled a little at that. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. Still.” He shook his head. Seeing his friend wallow in that same guilt with which he was so familiar, Thor made a decision.

“No use dwelling on it. There are things that need punching.” Thor put his arm around Banner and steered him toward the palace, humming quietly to himself.

“Wait. There are?”

“We’re the Avengers. There’s always something for us to punch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the Avengers venture bravely forth into the unknown future!  
> Also, I refuse to accept Loki's death in case you can't tell. But I'm playing along for the purposes of canon.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! If you haven't and Overwatch is your thing, maybe go to Mindful's page and check out the... sibling fic?... to this one!


End file.
